


A House for the Hat

by MiraMira



Series: genhp_ldws entries [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen, Humor, One Shot, POV Inanimate Object, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-07
Updated: 2010-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 23:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraMira/pseuds/MiraMira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A recalcitrant first year gives the Sorting Hat some unexpected insight into its own character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A House for the Hat

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge winner for Round 2 of the Gen Fic Last Drabble Writer Standing competition at LJ

Over the centuries since the Founders granted me the ability to peer into first years' psyches (a term I've picked up from the Muggleborns), I've encountered a variety of reactions from students. Nervousness, unsurprisingly, is most common, followed closely by excitement. After the Sorting comes joy and relief, or occasionally grief and anger. I confess my own gratitude that the professors grab me quickly in those instances, for I do not relish crushed dreams or parental disappointment. Yet as I am still here and not a pile of ash or snippets of fabric, I can only conclude that time eventually persuades even these unfortunate souls.

So it was with no small amount of wounded pride that I confronted the unprecedented challenge set before me at one particularly memorable Sorting Ceremony: a student who refused to let me do my job.

"For the last time," I told the boy wearily, knowing that my words would have no more effect than the fifteen previous variations on the argument, but unsure what else to do, "I will not be using any information I discover for nefarious purposes, or sharing it with your classmates."

_"So you say."_ I could not have seen the boy's eyes even had I possessed the necessary equipment, but I had the distinct impression he was glowering. _"But if you get to riffle through my thoughts, why don't I get to see yours?"_

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Actually, I had no idea whether it was, but I had no desire to experiment. A millennium of accumulated experience might drive the boy insane, while breaking my earlier promise not to share details of others' Sortings.

_"Then you're going to have to drag mine out of me."_

Had I possessed lungs, either, I would have used them to sigh. "I could, but then I'll only see the bits you don't want me to see, instead of the ones I need to Sort you properly."

The boy mentally folded his arms. _"Fine. Just pick a House."_

"I can't!" My vehemence surprised even me.

_"Why?"_

Why indeed? "It's…not right," I answered at last. "The Founders charged me with this duty, and I must fulfill it as best I can."

The boy considered this for a moment. Gradually, I felt his suspicion fade into respect, and then the lowering of his defenses as he opened his mind to me.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" I murmured, barely skimming his memories and perceptions; they only confirmed what I had suspected from his response to my explanation. "GRYFFINDOR!"

A brief sensation of satisfaction and relief emanated from him, and then he pulled me off.

The Founders intended me to be objective in my assessments of the Houses, and so I have tried to be. But for years after that Ceremony, I took particular interest in any stray thoughts new students had on the boy who grew up to be Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. For in a sense, I Sorted myself along with him that day.


End file.
